


What If...?

by masongirl



Series: The best laid plans [13]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguments, Bucket List, Cats, Childhood Memories, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Nicknames, Pet Names, Relationship Discussions, Summer, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masongirl/pseuds/masongirl
Summary: It's George's twenty-seventh birthday, and he reveals an unexpected item on his bucket list.
Relationships: George Luz/Joseph Toye
Series: The best laid plans [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682071
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	What If...?

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a while since I posted in this verse, so here's a little piece before we get to the wedding fic. :)

Most pivotal moments in Joe's life didn't come as a surprise. Graduating high school, moving away from his parents, finding a job, even the fact that he fell in love… They did not hit him like bolts of lightning in the middle of a field. He could feel them grow from sparks of change into a new reality, and he was able to adapt to them without trouble. But ever since he lost his leg, his ability to anticipate the future has been missing, and he feels blind. His mind is clouded by doubt and insecurity; he doesn't know if he can trust his own expectations, so he doesn't dare dream at all. George does enough of that for them both anyway.

It's George's twenty-seventh birthday today and he's still fidgety, all but buzzing from joy even though the party is long over and the setting sun dribbles gold on the horizon. They should get up and say goodbye to George's parents, start the two-hour drive home, but the porch swing is comfortable and Joe doesn't have his prosthesis on. The sultry air makes him drowsy. His leg is tucked under himself and the empty fabric on the right side of his trousers is rolled up so that his stump can breathe. He rests his head on George's shoulder and lets George rock the swing back and forth. It would be the easiest thing to lie down for a nap here, but Joe fights it. He'll sleep in the car if he can.

"I'll let you escape the first dance if you let me serenade you." George interrupts the sleepy daze and scratches Joe's shoulder blade through his T-shirt. He damn well knows that the sensation sends a delicious shudder through Joe every time.

"Jesus Christ." Joe grouches, raising his right hand from George's stomach to his own forehead. "You've been nagging me about that for six years now."

"It's on my bucket list, _caro."_

"Did you upgrade me from bean-head?"

"Bean-head is reserved for the days when you annoy me." George pokes him between the ribs. The grin rings in his voice like the sweet aftertaste of a candy. "So, do we have a deal?"

"No, we don't." Joe laughs and hugs George again, closing his eyes. The swing creaks as George pushes it once more. The motion creates the illusion of a breeze and makes Joe sigh. "You sing to me every other day."

George puts his left hand on Joe's forearm. His thumb and forefinger are sticky, probably from cupcake frosting. "I wanna sing to you in public."

Joe's smile softens. "What else is on that list, hm? Offer me something better."

"Are you sure you wanna know?"

"At this point, I don't think anything could shock me."

Six years of listening to George's hopes and fears taught him a thing or two about himself. Even now, when the ground seems to wobble after each step he takes towards healing, he knows he would jump headfirst into any adventure George wanted to go on. He's used to the wildness of George's imagination. What else could be on that bucket list, if he even has one and didn't just think of it on the spot? If he says _singing a duet…_ Joe snorts at the thought. He'll get roped into it eventually.

The hot breeze picks up and drags the thick scent of linden blossom through the air. It's sweet and heady like the desserts at the party, and Joe's sleepiness deepens. Nothing seems to escape the spell of this indolent afternoon. Only their swing moves, back and forth, rocking slowly while George's chest expands under Joe's head with every breath. The wind chime hanging by the porch steps tinkles.

"What got you so quiet, Georgie?" Joe asks before the silence could make him succumb to the draw of sleep.

"Nothing." George tightens his arm around Joe and kisses his forehead. "What do you think about your sister's pregnancy?"

Joe shrugs. It won't be his first time becoming an uncle, and Helen's announcement wasn't unexpected anyway. "I'm happy for her. At least, Mom will be too busy to pester us about the wedding."

A strange tension spreads through George's body. His breathing stops, then resumes again, as if he wants to say something but backtracks from it before the sentence could form on his tongue. Joe frowns. What could it be? Is it about the wedding? God, what could cause such sudden anxiety?

"Joe?" George gets it out at long last, completely frozen in Joe's embrace. The swing stops.

"Yes?"

"What if..." He starts but bites the rest of it off. His unsaid words drift out between his lips as a sigh.

Joe sits up and stares. His mind races frantically, looking for another explanation, anything that isn't what his instincts say, but it's all he finds. "Are you serious?"

George looks hurt. "Is it really that ridiculous?"

"No, just… A baby?" Joe runs a hand through his hair, then picks at the empty fabric of his pants. "With my leg?"

"Why not?"

The reasons are endless. Joe can't - He's caught completely off-guard by this wish, and once again, it's like a carpet yanked out from under his feet. They've never had a serious discussion about having kids together, not once in six years. Joe feels stunned by a lightning strike. "I don't think we're ready."

"We could be if you believed for one moment that our life isn't broken." George says bitterly and crosses his arms.

As usual when they fight, he finds the point that hurts the most with perfect precision, but Joe ignores the pain. It's true, he should get back to his old self again. It has been more than two years now, but his issues still take a lot out of them both. They can't take on more responsibility while he's still in need of all this emotional support. It wouldn't work out.

He looks down at his single foot. "I try."

"Sorry." George mumbles and gives Joe a small smile. "It was - it was just a thought, okay? Just one of my silly ideas. It wouldn't be easy anyway, I guess we'd have to look into adoption and - you're right, we aren't ready. Forget it." He stands up. "Let me get the crutches and we can go home."

He walks away towards the car, and Joe's left alone with all his self-deprecating thoughts. It always makes him feel like shit when he and George aren't on the same page, and this is a big thing, not just the brand of coffee they prefer. Fuck, for some people, this could be a deal breaker in the long term. Joe rubs his forehead and tries to think it through. He can - well, he can imagine it, but he isn't sure if he wants it too. He rarely thinks of his future since the accident happened.

The front door opens and George's mom comes outside with a kind smile and what looks like an entire pantry in neat little boxes piled in her arms. She sits next to Joe, on his right side. Thankfully, the stump never bothered her. "I packed some of the leftovers for you boys."

"Ah, thank you so much, Mama, but there's no need. We are stuffed so full we can barely walk."

"Nonsense." She pats his forearm, and together, they watch as George tries to coax the neighbour's orange tomcat out from under a bush. She chuckles. "He wanted to be a kitten when he was a first grader."

"Did he?" Joe grins. Now, this is a story he hasn't heard before.

"Because all they do is nap and eat and they don't have to go to school." She quotes. They share an amused glance, but Joe feels a little sad too. He knows why George hated school, and it had nothing to do with the workload.

When George hugs the cat to his chest with a triumphant smile, his mom snorts. "He called himself _'Gio the gato'_ and meowed all the time."

"Typical." Joe laughs. Mama Luz always has the best stories. Every visit supplies Joe with something new to tease George about.

"He was a sweet child." She sighs fondly. "Time goes by so fast."

Joe barely resists rolling his eyes. In the past three months, he had to realize that people often get sentimental and nostalgic when they think of weddings, and theirs is no exception. At least George's mom hasn't cried yet.

"September will be here in no time." She says as George opens the trunk of their car and grabs the crutches.

"I know." Joe bites his lip. "Makes me nervous."

She rubs his shoulders. "Oh, you'll be fine."

George bounds up the steps, cheerful again. His shirt is covered in fur. He glances between his mom and Joe suspiciously. "Are you talking about me behind my back again?"

Joe pretends to be incredulous. "Me? Never."

George snickers. "Damn it. What did she tell you?"

"Language!" Mama Luz chides.

"Mama!" George groans. "I'm an adult. I can say what I want."

"I still don't like hearing that foul language from you."

Mildly irritated, George gives the porch railing a dark look, then hands Joe his crutches. "All right, mama, we're going home."

Joe spends the entire drive back to the city contemplating George's wish. It came out of nowhere. He didn't expect anything like that. Adopting a baby… Obviously, George didn't mean _right now,_ but if he was ready to talk about it, there's no doubt he wants them to start the process in a few years. After all, it won't be as easy as it is for most people. Who knows how long it would take? Joe's anxiety rises at the mere thought.

It's still gnawing at him when he and George climb into bed that night. There's a storm raging outside, one of those heavy summer rains that hits the city like a monsoon and leaves in an hour. Stretched out on his back, Joe listens to its calming whoosh and pulls George's left hand up to his chest.

George yawns, then nuzzles his current pillow. "How come I'm dead tired when I did nothing all day?"

Joe smirks. "Perhaps, you've finally turned into a cat."

George's nose scrunches up as he makes a pained face, then he laughs, flexing his fingers between Joe's. "Come on, I was six."

They fall silent. The rain keeps tapping on the window as the wind blows it at the glass, but the rhythmic noise feels soothing. Joe's thoughts wander from George's childhood memories to his own, then back to the porch swing. He twists his ring with his thumb. They could move to the suburbs, maybe, find a place big enough for three, and they can decide then. It sounds like a good starting point.

George nudges the back of his free hand with a fingertip. When Joe turns his head, he gives him a hopeful look. "What I mentioned earlier… No pressure, just… let's talk about it sometime. What do you think?"

Joe hums in agreement. "I think you'd be a wonderful dad."

George's lips curl into a lopsided smile. "Really?"

Joe nods. "I bet our little girl would love your fairy tale voices."

"A girl, huh?"

"Boys are trouble." Joe explains. He's playing with the idea just to cheer George up, but the more he thinks about it, the less frightening it seems. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he realizes this might be another unexpected turning point. "She'd have your crazy creativity and my right hook."

George chuckles, then closes his eyes and presses his forehead to Joe's shoulder. "Will we ever get there?"

"I don't know." Joe admits. There's no need to lie. He can't hide that he's not quite comfortable with the thought, George will notice it anyway. A long beat of silence passes between them, and it leaves the impression of a familiar sadness in Joe's chest. Would his answer be the same if he still had his leg? "I promise I'll think it over."

"Really?" George whispers, teetering on the edge of sleep

"Yes. Good night, Gio."

George makes a small noise of protest against the nickname, but he tightens his grip on Joe's hand once more before he falls asleep. The shadow of a smile lingers on his face. Joe stares at the ceiling and tries to let himself dream again.

_~End~_

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate every kind of feedback. :)


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